


Come Home (To Me)

by hvanwoong



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxiety, Boys Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Hwanwoong needs a hug, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Light Angst, M/M, Self-Indulgent, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hvanwoong/pseuds/hvanwoong
Summary: Five times Keonhee tries to help Hwanwoong…… and one time he lets him.
Relationships: Lee Keonhee/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 18
Kudos: 137





	Come Home (To Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All ^-^ It’s not usual that I apologise for a work up front but I wrote all this today because I needed a comfort fic and the thought of Keonhee giving me a big hug HELPED. This work contains a lot of symptoms of anxiety, please watch out: disordered eating, panic attacks, insecurity.  
> It’s just a bit of a mess. Big sorries. x

Hwanwoong has always worked hard, but with the schedules piling up and a new comeback drifting ever closer on the horizon, he has developed a new fervour, an urgency that none of the group have seen before. Sometimes, even when they’re home at the dorm, Keonhee glances across the room and sees a dark, anxious sort of look in his eyes, like his mind is somewhere else, and it takes a loud noise or a clap of hands just to snap him out of it.

The first time that Keonhee decides that is has gone too far is around three weeks before comeback, in the brightly lit dance studio where they have spent the entire day. After several hours the strip lights always start to hurt Keonhee’s eyes and he finds himself squeezing them shut over and over but finding them dry as ever. His limbs are aching, a bruise forming on the outside of his left knee where he fell during choreography, and he longs to go home, to go to sleep.

It has been a long day for all of them.

Keonhee knows that Hwanwoong has been awake the longest, since before their wake-up call, because he heard shuffling in the kitchen just after dawn. When he finally dragged himself out of bed, Keonhee was confronted by an irritable, slightly wild-eyed Hwanwoong who he was fairly sure hadn’t slept much at all.

Throughout the entire schedule for the day, Hwanwoong has moved around with the slightly lagging energy of a man running on empty, dragging out his reverses to overcompensate for his lack of sleep. His movements have been unusually jerky, sharper than usual, though never incorrect. In the interview they conducted around lunchtime with a journalist who visited the studio, his responses were clipped, rehearsed, and at times even over-orchestrated.

Now, by the time that the clock ticks past 7:00pm and they are released from their second practice session of the day, Keonhee is surprised to see that Hwanwoong doesn’t even seem able to stand.

‘Earth to Hwanwoong!’ grins Seoho, perhaps thinking that he’s just lost himself in his thoughts. He clicks his fingers lightly in front of his face. ‘It’s time to get out of here.’

Hwanwoong looks at him with a blank expression, and Seoho’s smile turns nervous.

‘Hwanwoong-ah? I said it’s time to - ’

‘I have to keep practicing,’ says Hwanwoong in a flat voice, and he hauls himself up from the floor at last to walk over to the sound-system. He takes out his own phone and examines the system to connect it.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ says Seoho with an awkward laugh.

Keonhee, who had collapsed to the ground himself only seconds earlier, flat on his back, drags himself to his feet too, attention piqued. The others have already rushed from the studio to celebrate their freedom. He watches, head cocked to one side, as Hwanwoong fumbles with the cable.

‘ _Woong-ah_?’ Seoho repeats, and this time his voice is more cautious.

‘Why don’t you go after the others?’ suggests Keonhee as he stands up, and he places a gentle hand down on Seoho’s shoulder with a jerk of his head towards the door.

Seoho looks from one to the other, then nods slowly, leaving the room. It’s normal for Hwanwoong to be left to Keonhee, the only person who can manage him when he starts to get this intense.

In the sudden quiet, Keonhee can hear Hwanwoong muttering under his breath as he continues to struggle. His earlier short burst of energy seems to have waned a little, the fatigue starting to catch up with him, and he switches his weight from one foot to the other like he cannot keep himself upright for much longer.

‘You’re putting it in the charging port,’ says Keonhee finally, thinking it best to put him out of his misery.

Hwanwoong glances up at him with a look of mild surprise that he’s not alone. ‘Oh… yeah,’ he says and his eyes turn to the floor in embarrassment. ‘Stupid me.’

‘Come on, Hwanwoong, let’s go home.’ Keonhee does his best to sound uplifting, the way that he does on stage or in interviews when everyone else is tired. ‘We can watch a movie. Or even better, _sleep_!’

‘I wish I could, but I really have to practice.’

‘We practiced all day, Hwanwoong. Take a break.’

‘You wouldn’t understand. I have to get this perfect.’

Keonhee, a little affronted, straightens up. ‘Look, we all want to be as good as we can but - ’

‘I have a lot to work on, Keonhee!’ he snaps. ‘I have my dance break to get right. I can’t afford to go home yet. I was the weak link today, you all saw it.’

Keonhee looks at him with sad eyes. Hwanwoong looks drained, his face more drawn than he remembers it looking, and he suddenly looks very small. Not in stature, but in the way he holds himself, when usually his presence is so big. There is a slight tremor in his hand as he reaches up to scratch his forehead, a nervous movement that Keonhee picked up on many months earlier.

‘You weren’t the weak link. You’re the best dancer we _have_.’

‘Not today,’ he says.

‘Please, Woong-ah, just come home. You need to rest.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ says Hwanwoong, perhaps meaning to sound harsh but the weakness in his voice reduces its impact. ‘Just… go to the car, the others will be waiting for you. One of the staff can drive me home later, or I’ll walk.’

Keonhee shifts awkwardly. He wants to push Hwanwoong, to grab him by the shoulders or maybe pick him up with vice arms around his waist and carry him out of the studio, but his courage fails him. When Hwanwoong is like this, there is little that anyone can do to change his mind. And he can be quite intimidating when he snaps properly; Keonhee has been on the receiving end of that more than once.

‘Okay,’ he says, wondering if the gloom shows on his face, ‘don’t stay too late.’

Hwanwoong doesn’t answer; he has already redirected his attention back to the sound system. This time, he has picked up the wrong cable.

Defeated, Keonhee turns on his heel and slopes out of the room, vowing to drag him kicking and screaming out of the studio if he has to next time.

~

It isn’t Hwanwoong’s first panic attack, but it is definitely his worst.

In a way, it has been brewing all day. There has been a strange, tight feeling in his stomach since he woke up, and every time someone spoke to him during the day he withdrew a little, as though they’d shouted.

There are only ten days left until the first comeback stage, and nothing is working.

He is so busy recording last minute vocal tweaks that he’s barely had time to practice his dance break. He keeps forgetting to eat and finding himself exhausted by midway through dance rehearsals. He knows that the other members are stressed and nervous about the comeback too and he knows that he ought to be supporting them, but he can barely keep himself afloat. Guilt eats away at him. He’s not living up to their expectations.

That’s the part that hurts the most.

It’s this afternoon, when they take a break and he finds Geonhak comforting Dongju in a side room after he’d fallen during practice, when everything catches up with him. Something like a very heavy stone drops in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t even noticed that Dongju had taken such a bad hit. He thought he’d just gotten straight back up again. What sort of hyung didn’t even notice that his little brother had hurt himself?

Hwanwoong stands in the doorway for a second, glad that the two of them haven’t noticed him. His heart pounds against his chest, steadily increasing in pace. When he looks down, he can actually see the neck of his sweat-soaked tee rocking up and down with the force of its beating.

He wants to move, but he seems to be rooted to the spot.

He is starting to feel the tell-tale constriction in his chest, and the tightening of his muscles that make it feel as though broad hands are closing around his body.

Finally, he finds the feeling in his legs, and he turns on his heel, just as Geonhak looks back up, rocking on his heels to stand.

Hwanwoong bolts, breathing ragged as he stumbles his way down the corridor, one hand dragging along the wall to trace his route. He staggers into the bathroom, relieved to find it empty, and pushes his way into one of the stalls. The whole stall shakes when he slams the door shut behind him. His hands are shaking too badly to push the lock all the way across.

He drops down to a crouch, forehead pressed against the stall wall, and clutches one hand over his heart. His breathing is coming in tiny gasps now, as his lungs struggle to find the oxygen they need, and small black spots begin to appear in the corner of his vision as his blood floods away from his head.

He squeezes his eyes shut and a tear is pressed out from the corner of one of them, as he frantically searches through the crushing darkness for breath.

Just when he starts to think that he really might die, that this time his heart will completely give out before he can find the air that he so desperately needs, there is a knock on the stall door. The sound grabs him by the scruff of the neck and drags him back to reality.

‘Woong?’ whispers Keonhee’s voice.

Something about his voice grounds him. Oxygen is coming easier now. He opens his eyes, an inch from the chipped blue paint.

‘Woong, are you okay?’

Hwanwoong clears his throat in experimentation, unsure of whether he’ll be able to talk. ‘Yes, I… yes I’m fine,’ he says, voice coming out as a croak. He focusses on steadying his breathing. ‘I just got sick. I think I ate something funny.’

He knows just by the sound of his shifting feet that Keonhee does not believe him. ‘Geonhak said that you ran away like you were upset. Can you let me in?’

‘I’m fine, Keonhee,’ he says, noticing that a couple more tears have escaped down his cheeks. He wipes them away furiously. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’

‘But Hwan-’

‘I said I’m _fine,_ Keonhee,’ he interrupts, and this time he pushes the words out as strongly as he can. He does not want Keonhee to see him like this. He’s supposed to be stronger than this, a good example to Dongju. What would his members think if they saw him like this? ‘Go and help Dongju.’

‘But Hwanwoong - ’ Keonhee’s voice is soft and pained.

‘Just leave me alone.’

Every word is an effort, and he knows that they stop sounding innocent, but he can’t keep putting them together properly anymore.

There is a long silence, and then finally he hears Keonhee’s retreating footsteps.

Somehow, he wishes that he’d stayed.

~

Two days later finds Geonhak and Dongju cooking dinner, or rather Geonhak cooking and Dongju giggling conspiratorially at his side. Despite repeated bad advice from the other members, Geonhak has managed to pull together a meal worthy of dinner. It’s no mean feat, as they usually rely on takeout or the help of their managers. None of them are especially inclined towards cooking.

Keonhee, Youngjo and Seoho are draped in the living room, crammed onto the couch watching a drama on television. Hwanwoong, though, is out in the hallway in front of the only full-length mirror in the dorm, his eyes fixated on his own reflection. He’s vocalising beats as he runs through his dance break, at one point dropping all the way to the wooden floor with a clunk of his knees. It’s not designed for dance like the studio at the company building.

Geonhak serves up the dinner in steaming bowls, though Dongju is the one beaming and taking most of the credit. He carries the dinner over to the couch, and Keonhee glances over his shoulder at the hallway. He can just see Hwanwoong’s hooded shadow making the best that he can of the narrow corridor. With a sigh, he says to Dongju, ‘don’t worry, I’ll take Hwanwoong’s out to him.’

Perhaps Hwanwoong is so invested in his dance that he does not notice anything else going on around him, because at first he does not look up, even when Keonhee calls out his name from the end of the hallway. When he walks a little closer, Hwanwoong jumps, like he’d snuck up on him in the dark. He’s dressed in an oversized grey hoodie that Keonhee could have sworn did not used to be that large on him.

It makes Keonhee feel guilty to disturb him, but he’s sure that Hwanwoong will appreciate it, even if he won’t admit it. He holds the bowl out expectantly. ‘Geonhak made dinner,’ he says. ‘Dongju helped.’

Hwanwoong turns and wrings his wrists together. The sleeves fall all the way past his fingers. ‘Thanks, Keonhee, but I’m not hungry.’

‘Come on, Woong, they worked hard on it.’

Hwanwoong gives him a strange, analytical look, like he’s trying to figure out whether or not he can win this argument, and whether it is worth his time. When the answer is apparently no, he takes the bowl from Keonhee and eats a quick spoonful, still standing up. He gives him an encouraging smile. ‘Thanks.’

‘You should thank Geonhak and Dongju,’ says Keonhee, thinking that he might be able to coax him into the living room.

As if sensing that Keonhee isn’t going to give up, Hwanwoong shuffles into the living room after him and thanks Geonhak and Dongju. He sits down on the very edge of the armchair to the side of the space and turns his eyes to the drama on the TV, but they’re glazed over and Keonhee can tell that he’s not really watching.

‘Why don’t you eat some more?’ he suggests.

Hwanwoong takes another quick spoonful and then sets the bowl down on the low table. ‘I’m not that hungry. It’s really good, though.’

‘You hate it!’ says Dongju with a crumpled face, having overheard.

‘No, no, I don’t! Of course I don’t!’ Hwanwoong says quickly, glancing around at the other members in panic. ‘It’s great.’ He says it with a smile, in a light tone, but his eyes don’t quite match up.

‘Then why don’t you want to eat it?’ Dongju presses.

Apparently afraid that he might upset the youngest even more, Hwanwoong picks the bowl back up and picks at dinner until the others disperse. Keonhee, though, stays at his side, leant back against the partition to the kitchen. He watches him. ‘You always tell Dongju to eat dinner,’ he says eventually, in a quiet voice. ‘How can you expect him to do that when you keep skipping out on meals? It’s not setting a good example.’

Hwanwoong looks up, and Keonhee sees a flash of pain across his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t fair to put that on him.

‘Are you worried about the way you look?’ Keonhee whispers, worry in his voice. ‘Are you trying to diet to lose weight before the comeback?’

‘ _No_ ,’ says Hwanwoong.

Keonhee knows, though, that Hwanwoong reads the comments online, knows that he carried the weight of expectation on his shoulders. He also knows that Hwanwoong thinks he has to act a certain way, present himself a certain way, look a certain way. ‘Because you look beautiful, Woong. You don’t need to change anything - ’

‘It’s not that,’ Hwanwoong interrupts. ‘It’s nothing to do with that.’

Keonhee crouches down next to the armchair and reaches for his hands but Hwanwoong tucks them further up his sleeves and then sits on them. ‘Then what is it?’

‘I keep forgetting to eat and then I feel sick, but then when I have to eat I can’t _because_ I feel sick,’ he says softly. ‘I’m distracted all the time.’

Keonhee swallows. ‘You need to get back to eating regularly. You’re concentrating too much on the comeback and not taking care of yourself first. You need to put yourself higher up on your _list_.’

‘I’ll get back to normal when comeback is done,’ he says, unfolding his arms from his legs and standing to return to his practice in the hall. ‘We’re almost there now anyway.’

With a sigh, Keonhee watches him go and then looks at the bowl of half-finished dinner. He feels like he was close to getting through to him, but he failed again.

~

Hwanwoong is coughing.

He has been coughing every thirty seconds for what feels like weeks now, and it has got to the point that Keonhee clenches his fists automatically every time. It’s not that he’s angry with Hwanwoong – quite the opposite – but it’s starting to drive him slowly crazy and the comeback is only just over a week away. He needs to be sleeping too. Every night, though, he’s roused by the coughs and the sound of Hwanwoong running to the kitchen to down glasses of water.

On this night, Keonhee cannot stay in bed and stare at the ceiling any longer. He climbs out from under his blankets and pads to the kitchen to find Hwanwoong. He’s hunched over the sink, both hands gripping the counter. Even from a distance, Keonhee can see that his hair is damp with sweat, and it’s not hot in the dorm. ‘Have you thought about seeing a doctor?’ says Keonhee, after Hwanwoong finishes a particularly long coughing fit.

‘Why?’ he splutters, spinning around.

‘Because you’re coughing your lungs up every night?’

Hwanwoong drains his glass and then goes to the refrigerator for a fruit drink. ‘I think I got some pepper flakes stuck in my throat earlier,’ he says before downing half of that bottle too.

‘But you’ve been coughing for weeks now,’ says Keonhee, and he knows that the worry shows in his voice.

‘Have I?’

‘Cut the _crap_ , Hwanwoong!’ he says, at last giving in to frustration. It has been bubbling and bubbling and bubbling and he cannot bear it anymore. It’s too hard to watch Hwanwoong like this, too hard to try to take care of him when he refuses to take care of himself.

Hwanwoong meets his eyes. He is an accomplished liar, but he has never been very good at lying to Keonhee, and he knows it. And Keonhee knows he knows it. And he’s fairly sure that Hwanwoong knows that Keonhee knows that he knows it.

‘I’m fine,’ says Hwanwoong, even though Keonhee hasn’t asked.

‘You’ve been saying that a lot recently.’

‘Because I _am_.’

‘Don’t keep lying to me!’ snaps Keonhee.

Hwanwoong’s eyes plead wordlessly for him to leave it alone, but Keonhee won’t be deterred. Not again.

‘Just… talk to me. You’re getting thin and you never sleep anymore. I see the light from your phone all night. What’s going on with you?’

‘It’s a week until comeback Keonhee, I’m just tired.’

‘If you’re tired, why aren’t you sleeping?’

‘Because I can’t stop coughing,’ says Hwanwoong, rolling his eyes along with the circle he has just drawn with his words.

Keonhee crosses over to Hwanwoong and presses a hand against his forehead before the other can stop him. There is sweat there, slightly dampening his newly blond bangs. Hwanwoong pulls away, shaking his head dismissively.

‘You’re feeling pretty hot, there, Woong.’ Keonhee does not try to touch him again. ‘Maybe you should take something.’

‘I’m not taking anything. Pills make you sleepy. I can’t be tired for comeback.’

‘And if it develops into a full-blown fever? That’ll be great for comeback! Especially if you throw up on stage.’

‘Give _over_ , Keonhee,’ he says in a weary tone, ‘I’m not a baby. I wish you wouldn’t all treat me like one. I’ll be fine.’

‘If you actually rested for a couple of days, I’m sure it would clear up.’

‘If you actually minded your own business, I’d be able to go back to bed and rest!’ snaps Hwanwoong.

Keonhee takes a step back, and his face hardens. It’s rare that he loses his patience with Hwanwoong, but he’s running low on sleep himself and anxiety about the comeback is only becoming stronger with the way that his friend is behaving. ‘Fine. Well you should start wearing a mask around the dorm, because the rest of us don’t want to catch it.’

After a second of computation, Hwanwoong looks up, as though he’s suddenly registered what he said five seconds ago. ‘Wait, Keonhee, I didn’t mean it like that… I just…’

‘Of course you meant it like that. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you in future.’

He turns away to stalk back to bed.

It’s impossible to be angry with Hwanwoong, but the routine is starting to wear thin.

‘You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,’ he mutters to himself.

He just wishes that Hwanwoong would let someone help him even _once_.

~

The sound of Seoho’s vocal runs fills the small green-room, louder than the chatter of the management and the venue staff as they bustle around in pursuit of last minute arrangements. Their first pre-recording is only moments away, and Youngjo is pacing the room, running through his verse, while Geonhak reads through stage directions with quick, unblinking eyes.

One of the make-up artists has come with them and is busying herself tracing over the mic tape affixed to Hwanwoong’s face, blending the flesh colour across his skin. She keeps tutting, though, as Hwanwoong scratches his forehead and smudges the tone there as well.

‘Alright,’ one of the managers says as he looks down at his clipboard, ‘you’re on in twelve. Do you need anything?’

‘Water, please,’ says Youngjo, holding up his empty bottle.

Finally, the crowd in the room dissipates, and the group find themselves almost alone.

Hwanwoong is biting his nails. The sound is audible in the room, until he moves his teeth down to the skin along to the side of his thumbnail, chewing persistently at a hangnail that has come loose. The more that he attacks it, the further down it seems to extend on his thumb, and when Keonhee sees from across the room he hurries over and catches hold of his wrist to pull his hand away from his mouth.

‘Hey, hey. Woong, stop it,’ he says more firmly as he sits beside him.

Any further and it would have started bleeding.

Keonhee takes a tissue from the table and wraps it over the abused skin just in case, and holds Hwanwoong’s hand in his. ‘It’s alright, we’re finally here. We’re going to be great.’

Hwanwoong closes his eyes and exhales shakily. He’s sure he’s never suffered from nerves like this before. Somehow this comeback seems to be affecting him worse than ever. Perhaps his anxiety was already on the rise but he doesn’t remember. Maybe it has been this bad in the past too, but he can’t remember that either.

‘Do you need a drink? They went to get some water for us.’

Hwanwoong shakes his head, concentrating only on breathing. His knee is bouncing up and down urgently, and he is sure that Keonhee must be able to feel his hand shaking.

‘Do you feel sick? Shall we go to the bathroom?’

Hwanwoong shakes his head again, this time more aggressively.

‘Would it help to run through - ’

He stands up, pulls his hand free, and starts to pace. All of the questions are making his head hurt. He just wants to be on stage now, wants to get it over and done with. His behaviour is not escaping the attention of the other members. Youngjo turns to him and tries to take his arm, but he pulls it away. The panic is rising up in his chest.

‘Hwanwoong, please say something to me,’ says Keonhee.

Hwanwoong has not even noticed that he’s stopped answering. ‘Sorry,’ he whispers, voice trembling. ‘Keonhee, can we…’

‘What is it?’ he murmurs, placing his hands on Hwanwoong’s shoulders. They feel bony.

‘I think I need help, Keonhee,’ he says, and his voice is so quiet that Keonhee has to lean down to hear him.

‘What do you need?’ he asks, moving his hands up a little to cup his face. It cuts him that it’s too late for him to do anything real, that they’re going on stage in minutes and he wishes that Hwanwoong could have asked this of him days ago, but there’s nothing he can do to turn back that clock.

‘Later, help me later,’ says Hwanwoong.

‘But Woong - ’

Hwanwoong jumps up and down twice and slaps at the back of his neck to wake himself up. ‘I just have to get through this.’

Keonhee does not want to wait. He wants to wrap Hwanwoong up in cotton wool and carry him home to play games _right now_ , but he holds himself back. It’s not often that Hwanwoong gives in and asks for help, and he’s not going to do anything that might scare him back into his shell now.

~

‘He told me he’s ready for me to help,’ whispers Keonhee.

‘You’re sure?’ says Geonhak seriously, ‘because he usually bites my head off whenever I ask him what’s going on.’

‘You know Keonhee is different,’ says Youngjo.

The members are crowded around the low coffee table, watching Hwanwoong in the kitchen.

Since they got back from the show, he has been behaving very strangely, flitting around the kitchen and washing entire piles of dishes with the energy of something who hasn’t just drained himself on stage, and is now rearranging the plates in one of the cupboards, muttering darkly to himself about how none of the others stack them correctly. It’s a most unsettling sight. Hwanwoong is the last person to do any of the cleaning in the house, and is rarely seen in the kitchen.

He hasn’t mentioned what he said to Keonhee earlier, perhaps hoping that he might have forgotten, and he even pushed him away when he tried to give his hand a squeeze in the car.

‘So go… help him…’ whispers Dongju. ‘I’ve been worried about him for ages.’

Their impromptu mini-intervention is delayed by the fact that Keonhee is still scared to approach Hwanwoong when he’s like this. He might be small, but he can be quite ferocious. He gulps and looks at Hwanwoong, who has moved on to reorganising one of the food cupboards, apparently oblivious to their whisperings.

Youngjo, though, starts to propel Keonhee towards the kitchen, and he cannot protest lest Hwanwoong turn around. When Keonhee looks back, all of the members have assumed their ‘look-natural’ poses and are looking determinedly away.

He swallows. Why does he feel so nervous? _It’s just Hwanwoong, you idiot_ , he thinks, _pull yourself together._

When he looks at Hwanwoong, shaky hands pulling things out of the cupboard, with his bottom lip trapped tightly between his teeth, Keonhee’s heart softens. Why would he be afraid of him?

‘Woong,’ he says in a quiet voice, careful not to startle him.

Hwanwoong makes a noise, but Keonhee isn’t sure what it is supposed to mean.

‘Hwanwoong,’ he says, a little more loudly this time, ‘there are leftovers in the fridge. Why don’t we get something to eat and go to bed?’

For a moment, Hwanwoong looks very confused as he takes in the mess of spice jars that he’s left on the counter, like he’s forgotten entirely what he was doing. ‘But I… I’m sorting the cupboard.’

‘You hate cleaning and tidying,’ says Keonhee with a soft laugh, ‘you’re just trying to distract yourself. Come on.’ He takes Hwanwoong’s hand and traces his thumb over the back of his knuckles. He takes a deep breath and feels his confidence rise up in his chest. Taking care of Hwanwoong is something that he’s good at. ‘Let me take care of you.’

He is ready to be snapped at, braced for a rebuff, but to his surprise Hwanwoong leans against him and buries his face into his neck. Relief hitting him like a wave, Keonhee pulls him closer and rests his chin down on the crown of his head. Hwanwoong feels so small against him.

It is an incomplete embrace, Hwanwoong’s body turned away and their hands still on the counter, but it is an unspoken authorisation for Keonhee to steer him away from the kitchen. Keonhee refuses to look across and check if any of the others are watching them, and instead leads Hwanwoong away down the hallway away from prying eyes. They go to Keonhee’s bed.

‘You get changed into your pyjamas, I’ll bring the food,’ says Keonhee. There is a quiet authority in his voice, and to his satisfaction Hwanwoong follows his instructions without protest. Keonhee races back to the kitchen and pulls out the large white bag of takeout leftovers (ignoring Dongju’s complaints that the other members might want some too) and sprints down the hall in case Hwanwoong has escaped through the window in his absence.

To his relief, though, Hwanwoong is pulling on his pyjamas. They are soft and periwinkle blue, patterned with stars and moons. They are also Hwanwoong’s favourites, because he says that the moons remind him of their fans. He plays with the cuffs as Keonhee brings the leftovers across and opens the first tub. The scent of sweet and sour drifts into the air and Keonhee pushes it into Hwanwoong’s hands. ‘What if I get sick again?’ murmurs Hwanwoong.

‘Eat it slow,’ says Keonhee. He reaches up a hand and brushes the blond bangs back from Hwanwoong’s face. The hair is soft but the ends are dry from the bleaching. He rubs them between his fingers and wonders whether he could convince Hwanwoong to let him do a conditioning treatment for him. This time, Hwanwoong does not argue about the dinner.

He eats slowly but surely, under Keonhee’s watchful eye. At one point, Keonhee picks out a vegetable roll from another box and holds it up for Hwanwoong to bite. He smiles watching him eat and runs his fingers through his hair again. The second time, he doesn’t withdraw his hand and instead rests it at the nape of Hwanwoong’s neck, running his thumb along his hairline.

‘Do you want to talk about today?’ he murmurs. ‘About what happened in the green room?’

Hwanwoong looks down and Keonhee can see embarrassment in his eyes. No, not embarrassment. _Shame_.

‘You can talk to me about it.’

‘It all got too much,’ Hwanwoong whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, hey, you don’t have to say sorry. I’m glad that you asked me to help. You need to reach out to people when you’re struggling, Woong. Remember I told you that last time?’

 _Keonhee_ remembers it, the last time that Hwanwoong collapsed under the weight of his anxiety. They’ve been through this before. But he knows how hard it is for Hwanwoong to get back to that place of clear-thinking and planning when he spirals like this.

‘I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.’

‘You’re not wasting anyone’s time. You’re not wasting mine.’ He rubs his hand down Hwanwoong’s back in gentle circles. ‘I’m always here for you. I’m here to listen, I’m here to stay up with you, I’m here to sit with you when you’re eating. Wake me up in the night if you need me, any time.’

‘I did wake you up! With all that stupid coughing,’ whispers Hwanwoong and Keonhee is horrified to see that his eyes have filled with tears.

‘It’s okay,’ Keonhee says quickly. ‘I’m sorry that I snapped at you that night. I was tired, and the stress was getting to me too. I acted badly. But I was worried that you’d develop a fever. You need to nourish your body. Even when you’re feeling like crap, even when your anxiety is overwhelming, you need to concentrate on feeding yourself and getting sleep. Otherwise your body will start to hurt you as bad as your mind.’

They fall silent, and Keonhee folds up the empty cartoons of food and puts the bag down on the floor. He doesn’t fully understand what happens when Hwanwoong gets trapped in his mind; Keonhee gets worried and nervous too, but it doesn’t stop him sleeping or stop him eating, it doesn’t consume him. He’s done lots of reading online to work to understand, so that he can know how to help him.

Hwanwoong wipes under his eyes and nods. ‘I’ll try harder next time.’

That makes Keonhee frown. He kicks off his slippers and swings his legs up onto the bed before taking Hwanwoong’s hands. ‘It’s not about trying harder, Woong. You’re trying harder than anyone. It’s not your fault. You know that right? You know you’re not doing anything wrong?’ He squeezes his hands and then lifts them to his lips to press a soft kiss to the back of his right hand.

The gesture makes Hwanwoong turn to him with wide eyes. Sometimes, this is the best way to make Hwanwoong melt into him, little touches that they don’t share so often. He hunches his knees up almost to his chest and curls into Keonhee’s lap. ‘Do you think I’ll get better?’

‘What do you mean?’ he frowns.

‘Will this stop happening to me? Before the comebacks?’

Keonhee sighs and wraps his arms around him. ‘I don’t know, love. Maybe not. But you’ll manage it, better and better. We’ll manage it together. We’re all here for you.’

‘I don’t want to let Dongju down. I’m supposed to be setting a good example.’

This time, Keonhee lifts a hand to wipe away the tear that has slid down Hwanwoong’s cheek. ‘You’re doing an amazing job. Don’t ever worry about it. And you did an incredible job today, even though I know how hard it was. I couldn’t stop watching you from my side of the stage. I’m in awe of you.’

Hwanwoong sniffles and hides his face in his shirt. ‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I mean it. I’m in awe of you every single day. Look at me. _Look_ ,’ he says in a coaxing voice and Hwanwoong looks up with red-rimmed eyes. ‘Every time I look at you I feel lucky just to have you in my life.’

Hwanwoong groans and closes his eyes but he snuggles in closer. His body heat is like a hot water bottle that Keonhee wants to hold against him forever. He wonders how it would be to rest his head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat and fall asleep there. Then, he shakes the thought away and reminds himself that this moment isn’t about him, it’s about Hwanwoong.

‘You’re spoiling me,’ whispers Hwanwoong. ‘Spoiling me with words.’

‘I’ll spoil you every day,’ murmurs Keonhee.

With a contented sigh Hwanwoong sits up and tangles his legs over Keonhee’s so that he can face him. He leans close and touches a tiny, precious kiss to Keonhee’s lips, before hiding his face with his hand.

It’s not the first time that they have kissed, but it is not common either. Usually it is when they are elated, like when they won their first award, or when they travelled for their first tour. Now, he supposes, it is different, because Hwanwoong is vulnerable in his arms. He takes his elbows and brushes his fingers over the fragile crooks. ‘Does it make you feel safer, when we’re together like this?’ he whispers.

Hwanwoong gives him a shy nod.

With that, Keonhee tilts Hwanwoong’s chin up and kisses him again. This time it is deeper, filled with meaning. Hwanwoong is his best friend but a part of him knows that he’s always been more than that. Their lips brush together like silk against skin, fluid and destined. They only break apart so that Keonhee can kiss the end of his nose instead, then his forehead, then the crown of his head and he wraps him back up in his arms again.

Hwanwoong is so easy to hold.

‘You should get some sleep.’

‘We have to be up early for the schedules and - ’

Keonhee shushes him. ‘Don’t think about tomorrow. Think about right now. Take it all in. Every one of your senses. Focus on those feelings.’

‘I feel you,’ Hwanwoong whispers. ‘I hear you and smell you and feel you against me.’

‘Sleep with those thoughts,’ says Keonhee. He knows that if Hwanwoong falls asleep now, he’ll wake up with numb limbs and crick in his neck himself, but he doesn’t dwell on that. So long as Hwanwoong is comfortable, he will be happy. ‘Every time a bad thought comes into your mind, ask yourself, is this thought important right now? Does it serve me right now? And if the answer is no then think of this, how you feel warm and safe. Can you do that?’

Hwanwoong nods, his cheek moving against Keonhee’s chest.

‘Tell me, baby. How do you feel now?’

‘Warm,’ mumbles Hwanwoong. There’s a smile on his face, a nervous bite of the lip and dazzling bright eyes that look up at Keonhee. ‘Safe. Happy. I feel happier.’

‘I feel happy too,’ says Keonhee, just relieved that Hwanwoong permitted him to help at last.

‘Keonhee?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Thank you for waiting.’

‘Waiting for what?’

‘Waiting for me to let you in.’

He closes his eyes and concentrates on letting the stress on the last few weeks roll away from him. ‘I’ll always wait for you.’ He thinks about saying something else, all of the words that linger on his mind whenever he is in Hwanwoong’s presence, but when he looks down he sees that Hwanwoong has fallen asleep where he lays, head against his chest. His breath turns steady and calm, and the tension lines fade from his face as he drifts into dreams.

With a small smile, Keonhee gives in to the reality of waking up with a sore neck in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


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